Try a Little Tenderness
by trace93
Summary: Tim Riggins plus freedom, some TLC, and warm cookies.
1. Chapter 1

Summary: Tim Riggins, plus freedom, some TLC, and warm cookies. Guess this will be a serial! Spoilers: after season 4. Note: These characters are not mine.. Thanks to riggins33 for the nudge.

Tim heard a tentative knock on the door as he put a neatly folded grey t-shirt into the second drawer of his small dresser and gently slid it shut.

The shirt, which he'd just taken off, was one of the meager belongings he was allowed to keep at the halfway house where he was serving the remainder of his shortened term.

Six months in jail, then six months at The Nest, about ten miles outside Dillon.

"Who the…," he muttered.

He cracked open the door just wide enough to peer out with one eye.

Becky.

"Hey," he said, opening it wider and putting his hands on his hips. He was wearing sweatpants that sat low on his hips.

"Hi Tim!," Becky chirped, looking him up and down slowly and reaching to peck him on the cheek.

"Your favorite." She handed him a plate of chocolate chip cookies, still warm.

"Sweet, thanks," he said, breaking off a bit and eating it.

"Whoa." She pointed to his hair, which had grown out to a short traditional guy's cut.

He shrugged, grinned. "Hurt when they cut it off, but I actually kinda like it short. Doesn't fall in my eyes."

"Looks hot, actually." _And can't hide behind it_, Becky thought.

"Heard you got out a little early on good behavior. At first I didn't believe that, what with your reputation and all, but…"

Tim smirked, which made Becky happy.

Before he'd gone to serve his sentence, he'd stopped by her house to drop off a snowglobe his mom had given him.

That night, he looked a decade older than his real age, his face drawn and haunted.

Worst of all, not one patented Riggins smirk that whole conversation.

"Yeah, I minded my own business, read half the library, and…"

"…worked out." She grinned and squeezed his bicep. "These are bigger. Not that they were small before…"

Tim smirked, then went and got out the t-shirt he'd just stowed and slipped it on.

Becky could feel her pulse increase. Tim was absurdly muscular before, but now he was more defined. With his hair cut, he even resembled a soldier.

During the six months Tim was in prison, she'd managed to quash down the huge crush on him that had consumed her ever since he'd moved into the Airstream.

But now she could feel it swelling, enveloping her heart and squeezing it like an octopus.

He pulled out the one wooden chair from the desk, swung it around next to his cot, gestured for her to sit. He plopped down on the narrow bed, which squeaked with his weight.

"How'd you get here?," Tim asked. "You finally get your license since I wasn't around to play chauffeur?" Another smirk. The octopus clenched tighter.

"Believe it or not, yeah. My mom bought me a beater, a 95 Camry. Though c'mon, admit it, you miss haulin' me around in your truck."

"Know what? I actually did miss it. That first month, man, that was hard. I was like, hell, gonna be easy - sleep, three meals of slop a day, work out, read a ton, work in the laundry room some. Well, the days were fine, but at night…"

He trailed off, looked out the small window to the church next door. "Just me and my thoughts. That was harder." He furrowed his brow as darknes passed over his face.

"Brought you somethin' else," she said, touching his leg. He looked at her hand on his knee. It looked so delicate compared to all the men he'd been around for so long.

Some guys had tried to hit on Tim, but they backed off once they found out what a badass he could be. In fact, he'd made a couple of friends, workout buddies.

She dug around in her big bag and pulled out the snowglobe.

Tim's face lit up.

"Kept it safe for you. Is now the right time to give it back?"

He turned it over, watching the snowflakes settle, and turned it over a few more times.

"Gotta clear this with my PO, but it's hardly a weapon or somethin' I might off myself with," he said in his low voice. "No belts or letter openers around here." This time, no smirk.

"PO…?" Becky asked.

"Parole officer. Checks in twice a week. But he always knows where I am." Tim pulled up the left leg of his sweatpants, revealing an ankle bracelet. "Damn thing hurts, although a little less every day."

He put down the snowglobe next to a framed picture of Billy, Mindy, and Stevie, dressed in a reindeer sweater. He was already big enough to be sitting upright for their Christmas picture.

"So Becks, how're you doin'? Your mom okay?" Tim smirked again, remembering how Becky's mom had managed to hit on him and cuss him out in the span of a day.

"Me? I'm alright. Dated another football player a couple of times, but that fizzled out. And Mom, yeah, she's fine," she said, fluttering her hands. "She was worried sick about you after you got sent away, then she was kinda mad at you for whatever you did, and now she's dying to see you."

She gave him that faintly sick expression that she wore when her mom flirted with Tim.

"Duly warned," Tim laughed.

Becky got up and sat next to Tim on the cot. It squeaked again. She took his hand, laced their fingers, and placed the back of his hand against her cheek.

"Becks," Tim whispered, half-heartedly.

"What," she answered, and then kissed him softly, but lingeringly.

When she moved to kiss him again, he smothered her mouth with his, pulling her in with both arms.

He knew he shouldn't, but acts of grace were few and far between. And after six months to ponder his life, he found himself thinking about Becky far more than he'd expected, or even wanted.

He knew he couldn't have any sort of real relationship with her, that returning her affections would simply be leading her on.

And yet kissing her felt so good. And the warm cookies and the snowglobe all conspired to soften his will enough to give in to a little TLC.

They lay down on the cot, rolling toward one another at the center since the springs were worn that way. It felt unspeakably good to press his body against a girl's. As for Becky, she'd dreamt of this moment for a year. For a lifetime.

After Becky left, Tim shook the snowglobe, and as the flakes settled, thought of Montana, where his mom had thought of moving with him all those years ago.

He decided to call her. He'd memorized her number from the matchbook where she'd scrawled it in haste that time he'd run into her at the sporting good store, just two towns away from Dillon.

He walked down the hall to the communal phone, put in two quarters, and dialed the number. A man's voice answered, and Tim paused.

Couldn't be. "Dad! Dad…?" he stammered.


	2. Chapter 2

Spoilers: after season 4. Chapter 2: Tim has a mini family reunion. Note: These characters are not mine.

Tim hung up the phone. His talk with his dad had gone better than expected.

Jail had hardened him some, but it also made him realize he should try and appreciate those around him more.

So part of trying to be a better person included being nice to a father you'd mostly resented your whole life.

It turned out his mom was sick and had called her ex Walt to come and fix the water heater. Her second husband, and father of Melissa, was on a "business trip." Seems he was frequently away for work, or so he said. Some things never changed.

Walt lived a few towns over after moving back north from Corpus.

His father had put his mom on the phone, and although it was a brief conversation, it was good to talk with her.

Tim put another two quarters in and dialed Becky.

"Hey. Yeah, I need a favor back, one of those dozens of rides I gave you. I need to go visit my mom."

-/-/-/-

The next day, Tim was waiting for Becky on the front steps as she pulled up in front of the Nest.

He surprised her with a warm hug and a kiss on the forehead. She figured he'd try to put some distance between them after their last time together, although she'd have preferred a kiss on the lips..

Tim'd gotten permission to visit his mother since she was ill. His anklet would tell his PO where he was.

Becky, for one, was delighted to be able to return a favor after all the rides she'd coaxed from Tim. Not to mention all the time it meant they'd spend alone, together.

She was also morbidly curious to meet Tim's parents, after knowing almost nothing about them. What she had heard about his dad was horrible. And what kind of people would abandon such a great kid?

Tim unfolded directions he'd scrawled on a scrap of paper, directing Becky to go left or right after they got off the highway. He chewed his fingernails and nervously smoothed the ghost of his long hair.

"Here… pull over," he said as they reached a small wooden house just outside of town. A girl was riding a bicycle in circles out front.

Becky squeezed his hand and smiled at him.

It struck Tim how Becky sincerely seemed concerned about him in a way nobody had lately, and he felt a catch in his throat.

"Melissa?," Tim asked as they walked up to the girl. "Remember me? Your half brother, Tim?"

She smiled, eyes wide as the last time, the only time, he'd seen her. Tim impulsively put his arm around her and gave her a sideways hug. "Melissa, Becky," he said, with a wave of his arm.

"Your girlfriend's pretty," Melissa said. Becky beamed and Tim smirked and cleared his throat but said nothing.

"How's Mom doing, kid?," Tim asked softly.

Melissa frowned. "She sleeps a lot," she said, taking Tim's hand and leading them inside. "But the doctor says she's getting better."

Their mom was lying in her bedroom with the curtains partially closed. She turned her head and opened her eyes as Tim, Becky and Melissa came in.

"Lord, is that Timmy?" she said in a surprised voice. "Come over here, let me see you honey." She patted the bed next to her.

Tim sat down slowly, gave his mom one hand, which she squeezed with both. They looked at one another for a good while in silence.

"Look at you, a grown man, all handsome and whatnot. Except your gorgeous hair's all gone. I loved your hair long."

"Yeah, well, it wasn't exactly my choice. That's one thing that's happened since I saw you a while back when I was with Jay."

He shrugged. "Mom, this is Becky. Becky, Rita Rig…" He bit his lip.

"Bullock," she corrected Tim. "Rita Bullock. Well how do you do, Becky." They shook hands.

"Nice to meet you, ma'am," Becky said. She felt like she should say something like "I've heard so much about you," but knew she'd be lying.

She tried not to outright stare at Rita, but she was drawn by the resemblance to Tim, the disarming good looks, green eyes, and fine bone structure.

"So Timmy, after all those years, why the short hair now?" Rita asked her son, her voice darkly husky.

"Uh… I… I did some time."

His mom frowned and shut her eyes for a moment. "My. My god, Tim, what for."

"Well it wasn't as bad as you might think, like armed robbery or homicide or stuff like that. It was for selling some stolen car parts. Did six months, and released on good behavior with six months parole."

She started sniffling. "I thought you'd be better'n your dad. He was in and out of jail a bunch of times. Even Billy… I figured Billy'd get in trouble before you would."

"Well it was for the shop that Billy and me run in Dillon… Riggins Rigs. Car repair."

Tim held his tongue, wishing he could lay out the truth. He never told Becky either. He couldn't tell anyone for fear that they'd inform the police and haul Billy off to jail. Becky looked away.

"Well about Billy… there's some good news," he said, his face visibly brightening. "You're a grandma. He and his wife had a baby boy nearly a year ago. Stevie." He pulled out a picture from his wallet.

"Oh… isn't that…" she trailed off, gazing at Stevie and weeping. "He's adorable. But Billy, a father…?" Tim smirked and nodded.

"How could I not be there for you boys during all these life-changing events?," she said, sniffling more. "I was a terrible mom for you. I did what I could but it just wasn't enough. At least I had a better chance with Melissa," she said, reaching out and stroking the child's hair.

"She's a great kid," Tim said in a low voice. "Well, what I know of her anyhows." Melissa grinned at him. It made Tim want to get to know her as much as possible.

"Well I just wanted to come and see you cause I heard you were sick. And since we ran into each other that time, I'd meant to call you, but crap happened." He smoothed his missing hair again.

They heard the front door slam and a man's voice say, "Is that Timmy? Where's my boy…?"

Tim rolled his eyes at Becky, squeezed her hand, and whispered, "Here we go."

"Hey dad," Tim said resignedly. "Meet Becky."


	3. Chapter 3

Summary: Tim has a family reunion and gets a big surprise. Spoilers: after season 4. Note: These characters are not mine. Sorry for the lapse between chapters; life is busy!

Walt shook Becky's hand, hanging onto it a little too long. She forced herself to smile, apprehensive after what she'd heard about him. Also for all she _hadn't_ heard about him.

"Let's go into the living room, leave Mom to rest for a bit," Tim said, teeth gritted, ushering Becky out with a hand at the small of her back. He shut her door behind him.

"This your little filly, Timmy? What happened to that Garrity girl you were so whipped over last time I saw you? Never could understand how that fat snake oil salesman Buddy could produce a hot lil thing like what's-her-name. Damn, she's fine."

Tim shook his head and looked away, like he was counting to ten.

He _was_ counting to ten.

"Ten," he whispered. "Lyla. Garrity. She's gone. Away. Becky here's my, uh, friend."

Becky shot him an indignant look. Tim winked without smiling.

"Kinda surprised you're here with, uh, Mom," Tim said, the word still foreign in his mouth. "You two weren't exactly best buds last time we were all together."

Walt shook his head and chuckled. "Yeah, well, they say time heals all wounds. I figured fixing the water heater was the least I could do since Dick's away." He said Dick's name sarcastically.

"Then again, he's away a lot of the time, so that leaves your mom without help," Walt said.

"Well that's pretty rich, coming from you," Tim said. "I seem to remember you weren't around much when I was a kid, either. Something called abandonment…?"

"Yeah, well, she wasn't sick then. And you boys, you could… could take care of yourselves." He clapped Tim on the back.

Tim flinched. "Don't do that," he said in a stern voice.

"What, you got a bruise there, son? Sorry bout that," Walt said, laughing. "What's that, from the slammer?"

"Not that. Don't say we could take care of ourselves. It may have been convenient for both of you, but that don't mean it was right," Tim said gruffly.

Silence hung in the air like a thick curtain.

Becky cleared her throat. "Anybody thirsty? Glass of water? I need one," she said, heading toward the kitchen.

"Dad. What are you really doing here?," Tim said, waiting til Becky was out of earshot.

Walt raised his shoulders. "What? What do you mean?"

"I find it hard to believe you came just to help out Mom. What's going on…"

Just then, Walt moved his hand to the table and slid some papers toward himself, trying to be nonchalant.

"What the hell's that?" Tim demanded.

"Nothing. Just some papers," Walt said.

Tim pounced on the papers before Walt could snatch them away.

"Mom's last will and testament?" Tim said in disbelief. "Why _you_ got this?"

He flipped to a sticky note and read as Walt started to back away toward the front door.

"You double crossing sonofabitch," Tim hissed at him. "You were trying to dupe her into signing her property over to you, from Melissa!"

Walt turned beet red and looked over Tim's shoulder. "Becky! Got some for me?" he said, as Tim turned to look at Becky.

Next thing he heard was the screen door slamming behind him, a car door slam, and tires squealing.

"Bastard," Tim whispered, shaking his head.

"What was that about?" Becky asked, putting her hand on his shoulder.

"He was trying to take advantage of the fact that Mom's drugged up… make her sign over some property to him that rightly belongs to Melissa," Tim muttered.

Here he was, stuck in the middle of an estate dispute between his parents—and it didn't even involve him, really. Why would his mother include him or Billy in her will?

Anyway, she mostlikely owned nothing of value, so what difference did it make.

So many negative feelings were coming back to him, in fact how he felt most of his childhood when he was at home.

He pulled Becky into an embrace, needing some comfort, appreciating her presence more and more. She nestled her head on his chest and tilted her head up to kiss Tim softly, twice.

Melissa came in from the patio. "Where's Uncle Walt?" she said.

Tim rolled his eyes. She probably had no idea what a con man "Uncle Walt" really was.

"He, uh, had to go somewhere. Probly won't be back for awhile," Tim said. "When's your dad supposed to be home?"

"Um, I think tomorrow. But I'm not sure. He doesn't always tell us…" she trailed off.

Tim glowered at the floor. "Figures," he whispered.

"Hey, Melissa, maybe you could show Becky your video games. I'll go check on Mom." Becky took the papers from him.

As he headed toward his mom's room, Becky shot him a worried look. But Tim looked steady.

He took a deep breath and knocked once before entering.

Her eyes were closed. He sat down, folded his hands, and watched her for a few minutes before saying anything.

"Hey Mom. You awake?," Tim said softly. But she continued to sleep, breathing deeply. He didn't have the heart to wake her; she looked so peaceful.

He went out into the living room, and Becky was waiting for him.

"Tim, did you read this? Your mom's will?"

He tilted his head. "Yeah, I… I read this page that was marked here, about leaving some property to Melissa… I assumed my asshat dad was trying to change it to himself."

"Flip to the next page," Becky said.

Tim's jaw dropped.

In fact, his mother was planning to leave a big parcel of land she'd inherited, but never did anything with. Not just to Melissa, but to Tim and Billy as well, split evenly three ways.

And it wasn't just plain old land, it was in the gorgeous lakes section a short distance from Dillon.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary: Tim gets some gifts small and large. But can he trust them? Spoilers: after season 4. Note: These characters are not mine.**

Tim read and re-read the part in the will where his name was mentioned, but he still couldn't believe it.

When his mother awoke, Tim was sitting right nearby, looking at her.

"Hey," he said softly. "How you feelin', Mom?"

She rubbed her eyes. "Alright. I've felt worse. Could I have some water, honey?" she asked.

He helped her drink several swallowfuls.

She noticed the will sitting on her night table.

"Surprise," she said. "I was hoping it wasn't gonna be awhile until you found out - I prefer to keep livin' for awhile. And looks like I'm gonna make it." She smiled gently.

"Not to pry and all, but how'd this property come about, Mom?" Tim asked. Truth was, he didn't know much about her family.

"A great aunt of mine, back in Montana. When I was little, she'd braid my hair this special way that made me feel like a princess. I'd always sit next to her at family dinners and she'd tell me stories. She'd married a Texas oilman and they had several pieces of land in these parts. This was just one of many. Was I surprised when she willed it to me a few years ago, God bless her soul."

Tim shook his head. He just wasn't used to good graces like this, particularly involving himself.

His mom continued. "I want to build a house on the lake. Maybe move there and get you boys to stay with me. Build enough rooms so's you could have your own. I know Melissa would love to spend more time with her big brother… brothers," she corrected herself. "Billy too. Even if it'll take awhile before he can deal with me."

She turned her head away from Tim, dabbing her eyes with a tissue.

"Hey, Mom, it's alright…" Tim whispered.

She looked at him. "Nothing could ever make up for the terrible things I've done to you boys, leaving you with your father who couldn't even take care of himself, much less you. But there's still time. We still have time."

"And I want you to help me build the house, Timmy. I could pay you a salary, and that way I'd know I'd get what I want. Walt said you're good with your hands."

"Man!" Tim sputtered. "That'd be unreal,…" He shook his head; so much was happening so fast. A family, AND a job?

But could he just forgive his mother like that? His old mistrusting self couldn't just accept the situation without suspecting the worst.

Truth was, after prison, he was ready to open his heart to whatever generosity fell his way, after a life of bitterness and bad breaks.

"True - it ain't gonna be easy to get a job after servin' time, and this would take care of that," Tim said. "I mean, yeah, I did somethin' bad, but I was just tryin' to make a livin', like everybody else. Save up enough money to…"

The irony stopped him.

"To buy a perfect piece of land with a lake on it. Just like this property here," he said, pointing to the will. "Though I have to stay in the halfway house for another two months with this thing on." He pointed to the ankle bracelet.

Melissa stuck her head into the room. "Mommy? You okay?" She ran over and threw herself on the bed, causing everyone to laugh.

They hugged. "Hi baby, yep, I'm okay. Feelin' better every day. Looks like your brother here is gonna be around a lot more, help out with some big projects. Would you like that?" She winked at Tim, who grinned. Becky stood by the door, exchanging surprised looks with Tim.

"Yeah!," Melissa said. She threw herself at Tim, who hugged her back. She ran over and took Becky by the hand.

"Okay Timmy, so the deal is, you finish your time at the Nest, and when you're done, I'll be well enough so's we can get this project goin'. How's that sound?," Rita said, with more energy than before.

Tim was at a loss for words. "Yeh. Yesss," he said. "One thing, I think Walt won't be around for awhile, I kinda scared him off. I'll take a look at the water heater and make sure it's workin' before we head back to the Nest."

"Your father. One thing I can say for him – he is consistent," his mom said, shaking her head.

-/-/-/-

Later, as Becky was driving him back to the home, he broke down in tears.

"Tim? You okay? She handed him a tissue."

"Becks… Why do I feel like this is too good to be true? Like it's a bad joke, and the punchline will take it all away?," Tim said.

"I have a really good feeling about this, Tim," Becky said. "I believe in karma, and all that bad karma you've had your whole life is turning around. Just you wait and see," she said, smiling at him.

"You're always so damn positive," Tim laughed, leaning his head back and shutting his eyes. He had a lot to look forward to, suddenly.


	5. Chapter 5

Summary: Tim gets some gifts small and large. But can he trust them? Spoilers: through 5.2. Note: These characters are not mine.

They pulled up outside the halfway house 20 minutes earlier than Tim had predicted. He had to call his parole officer from the house phone by a certain time, or he'd earn a demerit. Enough demerits and the board holds a hearing on prolonging your parole.

Becky started to open her door, and Tim grabbed her wrist.

"Wait," he said quietly. "Let's just sit here for a few. I got like 15 minutes." He gestured to his ankle bracelet.

He pulled Becky close and kissed her softly, pulled her face into his neck and hugged her.

"What's that for?," she giggled. "Not that I'm objecting…"

He shrugged. "I dunno… this is gonna sound dumb, but I think it's, uh, happiness? I haven't really felt this way for as long as I remember… maybe a little bit when Billy & Mindy tied the knot, or when I first held Stevie, or I thought I'd bought that land…" He trailed off.

"I remember when you took me to see your land," Becky said. "You deserve that kind of happiness always, Tim," she said, squeezing his hand.

"Yeah. Well, this feels sorta like that," he said. "I mean, my mom's back in my life, she's recovering, I got this great little sister, my dad's gone for the time being, I potentially got a job doing what I love, and the chance to be part of an actual family – hell, my real family, not some people adopting me out of pity!" He shook his head, running his fingers through his ghost hair again.

He faced her. "What about you, Becks? What's going on at home and school?"

She grimaced. "My mom interviewed for a job as a blackjack dealer on a riverboat casino. Looks like she might get the gig. It'd be for three months."

"And what about you, kid? You be alright staying alone?"

He did the math, and realized he was actually even younger when left to stay alone at home for long periods of time, when Billy was working on an oil rig for a year.

But it was different. It was always different when it came to himself. Like the normal standards just didn't apply.

"Well if that's not bad enough, looks like my dad and his new family might stay in the house while Mom's gone. Dad wants to relocate to be closer to me than Seattle," she said. "Never met his new wife and baby, but they'd come too."

She looked at the horizon and bit her lip. The thought of being the discarded first child in her own house made her queasy.

"She might be alright," Tim guessed. "And a baby… as much of a nuisance as they can be, they're also sort of fun to have around." He thought of his brief time at home with Stevie, and playing with Gracie Belle when the Taylors took him in long ago.

"And I told you… mi familia es tu familia," he said, stumbling over the Spanish, giggling. "Seriously. Any prob, you go to Billy and Mins. Promise?" he took her hands.

She smiled and nodded. He could always make her smile, even in the worst circumstance. And even though she'd heard him say it that first time, him saying it again made it seem more real as an option.

He wiped away a tear, and kissed her again, slow and long. God, she could do that all day long.

"I gotta thank you Becks," he murmured. "You're literally the only person who's believed in me and helped me through this rough spell."

He'd watched as this curly-haired kid who was sort of bratty at first had matured into a level-headed young woman. Sure, she'd seen her share of problems… an unwanted pregnancy… a family nearly as wack as his own. Yet she was smart, talented, and kinda cute.

Plus, she put up with him and saw his potential, even if it was in the form of a tiny glimmer of hope. He felt it in himself every now and then, and mainly on the gridiron, but it almost always got tamped down.

They hugged until he looked at his watch, saw it was time to go.

"See you in a couple days?," he asked, getting out the car and walking to her open window.

"How bout tomorrow?," she replied, smiling, elbows leaning on the windowsill.

He gave her another big kiss and walked toward the house.

"Hey Becks!" he shouted as she'd begun to drive away. "You got a quarter for the phone?" They both laughed. Some things never changed.


	6. Chapter 6

Summary: Can Tim ever really go home? Spoilers: through 5.2. Note: These characters are not mine.

Tim packed the last of his few belongings into his duffel bag and sat down on the cot, chin resting on his clasped hands.

Oddly enough, he'd kind of miss the Nest, where he didn't have to make many choices, just do his chores and shut his lights off by 10. He'd even made a few friends.

Then again, he'd be back with Billy, Mindy and Stevie. Oh, and Becky, who had moved into his old room.

Pretty ironic, he finally gets out of jail and the halfway house, and he still has nowhere to sleep.

Well, truth be told, it didn't matter. One thing jail had taught him was that he didn't need much, as long has he went to sleep and woke up with his mind and conscience clear.

And that really, he'd known that his whole life. In practice, it wasn't so easy.

He heard Becky's horn honking outside, and waved to her from the window. "Be right down," he yelled, giving her two thumbs up.

He practically skipped down the steps, chucking his bag in the back seat and sliding into the shotgun.

He beamed at Becky and chuffed out a big breath. "Free at last, Becks. Riggs is free at last!"

She was smiling so hard her cheeks hurt. "C'mere," she said, wrapping her hands around his neck and pulling him in for big wet kiss.

She opened the glove box and pulled out a pair of shades, handing them to Tim.

"Ray Bans. Sweet!," he said, putting them on. "I missed these."

Guess as things came back into his life, he'd realize how much he'd missed them.

He also realized this the minute they pulled up to his house and he saw his old black truck sitting in the driveway.

"There she is," he mumbled in deep voice. Yeah, he'd missed her, too. A lot.

Billy came outside carrying Stevie. He put the baby down and he ran over to Tim.

"Whoa! He's runnin' now? Christ, time flies." He got wistful, thinking of how much of Stevie growing up he'd missed. At least he was still just a toddler and he'd catch all the other good, and bad, stuff to come.

"Da-da!" Stevie yelled at Tim.

"Whoa, dude, that's your da-da, not me!" Tim laughed. He scooped him up and kissed his fat cheek several times quickly. "Uncle Timmy's home now, little man. He's gonna teach you the ways of the world!"

Mindy came out, wiping her hands on a dish towel. "God forbid," she snarked.

"Hey Uncle Tim, bout time you got home," she said, giving him a big hug. "Dinner's on in an hour."

Tim smiled. Even Mindy's relatively basic cooking was gonna be a treat, after so much canned spaghetti. He'd lost every ounce of the little body fat he had, and after working out so much, and doing physical labor, was more muscular than ever.

"Can I help you, Mins?," Becky asked.

"Nah, I got it kid, you guys go relax, wash up."

Billy was heading back inside when he yelled, "33. Heads up," and threw him something.

His keys on the 33 keychain. "Shit," Tim said, choking up. How many nights he'd lain in bed, in jail, picturing his keys sailing through the air into Billy's hands that day he'd gone in.

Symbolic of everything that'd gone wrong. The end of his reign as 33, badass fullback, state champ.

"Tim, I gotta show you somethin'," Billy said gruffly. "C'mere." He led Tim inside, down the hallway where his room used to be. He put his hand on the doorknob of the laundry room; one of Tim's old 33 jerseys hung on the door.

"What, d'you get a new washer?" Tim asked sarcastically.

Billy opened the door and waved him in.

"Ready?"

It was a new bedroom built out from the laundry room off the back of the house. "Your new digs, bro!," Billy said proudly. "Even got a separate door to outside so's you can come and go as you please, without worrying about Stevie."

"Geez, Billy, you built this? I… I don't know what to say." He was honestly touched. His Panthers jerseys and mementos decorated the room, which was spartan, but comforting nonetheless.

He also remembered that he still had to break the good news to Billy about their mom's plans to build a house on that lake property. Later, when things had settled.

He sat down on his new bed and dropped his head into his hands. He wished his hair were still long so Becky couldn't see him crying.

She wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders, just able to link her fingers together and squeeze him.

"You're home, Tim. Home." She never wanted to do whatever she could to protect him, never let him go.

And for at least an hour, she didn't. They just sat there, rocking gently, Tim sobbing with happiness.


	7. Chapter 7

Summary: Riggins and Collette, together. Spoilers: through season 5. Note: These characters are not mine.

Billy rubbed his forehead again, a habit of his that expressed pretty much every emotion. This time it was happy disbelief.

"You're tellin' me that Mom wants you to help her build a house on this property that her aunt left her, on Red Ridge Lake? And that she wants us back in her life?," Billy asked, shaking his head.

"That's exactly what I'm saying, Billy," Tim said, levitating Stevie like an airplane. "Honest to god, she seems for real about this reconciling crap. If I wasn't there, I wouldn't believe it either. She was real sick, ya know. I think coming that close to meeting her maker made her think about stuff."

"Yeah, well don't forget how she just up and abandoned us with that son-of-a-bitch," Billy said. "It's not like I can just erase all that, those years when I was responsible for feeding you."

"Brrrrrrrrr….whooosh!," Tim said, dipping Stevie right to left, like a plane banking. "I know, Billy. She wants to try and make up for some of that. I'm pretty sure she means it."

Stevie laughed and clapped his hands. "Bah!" he squealed. Tim did another swoop and dip as commanded.

There was a knock at the door, a familiar one-two-and-three.

"Tyra," Tim whispered. "Your Aunt Tyra's here, Stevie!"

He swung Stevie to one hip and opened the door.

Tyra stood there grinning. Her hair had grown past her shoulders, and she seemed taller and more gorgeous than ever.

"Helloooo, Aunt Tyra," he said in a low voice. "Meet your nephew, Stevie," Tim said, receiving a lingering kiss on the cheek from her.

"Well thank you Uncle Tim," she said, in a proper manner. "Now I'll need to relieve you of this little guy, if you don't mind," she said, flinging her bag onto the floor and grabbing Stevie. "Hey Billy!," she shouted out casually, as if she'd just seen him, even though it'd been nearly a year.

"Hey Tyra," Billy yelled back, waving. "Nice of you to come visit, finally."

"Yeah, well, this scholarship leaves me zero time for anything but work and studies. Believe me, I'd have rather been home over the holidays, not working in the computer lab. Jesus, what do you feed this kid, steak?"

Billy hugged her. "Mindy's shift ends at 7. They put her on the day shift," he smirked. She frowned.

Tyra and Tim spent the next hour with their feet dangling over the pool edge, catching up on all that had happened since they'd last seen one another. The sunset was particularly beautiful that evening.

Tyra knew Tim had been to prison, but she didn't expect him to be so chastened, so forgiving, at least outwardly. He also looked extremely hot, tanned, his hair cut short for the first time in her memory, his muscles bigger than ever.

"So you were okay in jail?," she asked hesitantly. "I mean, you hear all these stories about getting roughed up, and becoming someone's bitch…"

He turned his head away, gazing into the distance for a moment before answering. "Let's just say I took care of myself. I got approached early on, took care of it, and after that no one bothered me."

"You mean you were a badass in jail, too, right?," she said teasingly. She'd always loved that about Tim, he didn't give a shit about being popular. He just did whatever the hell he wanted, like she used to…

"Call it what you want. They left me alone," he said.

She took his hand, threading her fingers through his.

"This'll sound lame, but I went through a similar thing at UT. That mean girl thing… it's probly worse than a bunch of cons!" They both laughed. "I put this one chick in her place when she made some cut about me being all boobs and no brains, and after that, no problems."

Tim smiled. "You always were the baddest cat around, Collette," he murmured, caressing her cheek and leaning in to kiss her. It felt like no time had passed since those years ago when they'd started dating and she'd wear his shirts around his house, when they'd spend all afternoon making out.

That was partly why he broke up that first time… they were too similar, like trains on a collision course.

But now she seemed different, and he felt different.

"You and me, Tyra… some history together, hunh?," he murmured.

"Like two peas in pod," she answered, kissing him long and deep, once and again.

"Ahem. Hey guys!," They pulled apart to see Becky standing behind them. She looked distraught.

Tim ran his hand through his ghost hair. "Shit," he whispered. Things felt so good and natural with Tyra that he'd forgotten all about Becky.

"Becky, Tyra. Tyra, Becky."


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary: A scene at the Riggins/Collette/Sproles household. Spoilers: through season 5. Note: These characters are not mine. **

"Hey Tyra...," Becky said in a forced polite tone. "Nice to finally meet you. Your sister has been so sweet to me. Ran my dad's ass out of town, and my wicked stepmother. Sorry to interrupt you two. Mindy wanted me to tell you dinner's ready in 20 minutes."

"Wow, what time is it?," Tyra said. "Time sure flies, doesn't it…" She looked at Tim and bit her lip, pushed her hair off her face.

Tim had gotten up and offered Tyra his hand. "C'mon. Let's go inside."

Tyra went to wash up before dinner. Tim and Becky were setting the table, and Becky kept apologizing nervously as they navigated around one another.

"What's up, Becks?," Tim asked. He already knew, of course.

"I just didn't realize you and Tyra…" she trailed off.

"There's nothin' between me and Tyra," Tim said. He realized that Becky really might not know anything about their relationship freshman year.

"Really? I find that hard to believe, seeing you two together…" Becky muttered.

"Well, we did date a few years ago, our freshman year at Dillon," Tim said. "But we were too much alike then, fighting all the time. I'd hurt her, and she'd hurt me, then we'd make up. It's just what we did. And then I got together with Lyla…"

"The love of your life…" Becky interjected, as Tim raised an eyebrow at her.

"… and she hooked up with… with…" Tim continued, shaking his head and smiling.

"Who? Who'd she hook up with?" Becky prodded him.

"Sounds funny in retrospect, but… Landry. Yeah, they were hot and heavy for awhile. She even managed to drag old boy scout Lance into trouble."

It dawned on Tim how unfair the world could be. Landry getting away with manslaughter, while Tim served time for a relatively minor crime. Such was his world.

"Oh, now I remember hearing about that," Becky said. "I don't remember the Collettes' involvement… That seems really unlikely, though, Tyra getting with Landry. I mean, she's such a fox. Although, there is something about Landry that is really sweet."

"What's this about Landry?," Tyra said, walking up behind them.

"I was just explaining about our history together," Tim said.

"I hope you included 'complicated,'" Tyra said, kissing Tim on the mouth. He kissed her back before pulling away and clearing his throat.

"Yeah, this is just, old friends showing their friendship," Tim muttered.

Tyra stared at him for a moment. "Are you two…?," she said, pointing between Becky andTim.

Tim knew she'd figure it out somehow. She had this way of burrowing into his brain, no matter what. Sometimes that was handy, most times not.

"We're friends. Good friends," he said. "Right Becks?"

She nodded meekly and walked quickly toward the kitchen. "Gotta help Mindy," she said.

"You're sleeping with her, aren't you Tim?" Tyra said. "It's so obvious."

"Well, it's more like friends with benefits. It's hard to explain," he said.

"It's always hard to explain with you," Tyra said. "You and I were simple, in truth. Tim and Tyra. But then you, with Lyla, Jason, all that drama…"

Tim smirked. "Yeah, well it's not like I planned it that way. It just happened. You think I wanted to hurt Jay? And anyway, as I recall, you and Street got pretty close for a while there."

Tyra tilted her head, remembering her heart-to-hearts with Jason. "True. But you two forced us together, more or less. But I guess I should thank you, because Jason is one of the best people I've ever known." At that, Tim nodded. "Six," he said softly.

Mindy came out carrying Stevie, who she put in his high chair. Billy carried a casserole, and Becky the salad and rolls.

Billy stood awkwardly, rubbing his hands together and beaming.

"Well look at this here little family we got going," he said. "I'd like to give thanks, us all being here together for once. Tyra finally getting her ass down to Dillon to see her nephew." He raised his wine glass, clicking everyone's glass.

Tim cleared his throat. "To friends!" he said. "All kinds of friends." He shot looks at both Becky and Tyra. "Now let's dig in."


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary: Tickle fights at the Riggins/Collette/Sproles household. Spoilers: through season 5. Note: These characters are not mine. **

Tim was sitting on the couch watching a game when Tyra casually walked over and plopped down, tossing her long bare legs over his. Becky, was sitting in the armchair with a pad and pen, writing notes for her upcoming pageant speech.

Without thinking, Tim slid his palm over Tyra's leg, back and forth, as he took a swig of beer. She winked and smiled at him, looking content.

Becky was trying to ignore them, as they obviously had been so close once that these old habits came back without thinking.

But it was starting to get on her nerves. "So Tyra, how's school going?," she asked.

Tyra tossed her now long hair back. "It's good, real good, but I've never worked so hard in my life. When I'm not in classes, I'm either at volleyball practice, or working in the lab."

"Are you dating anyone?," Becky asked. Tim cleared his throat and slugged back some beer.

"Well, I've been on a few dates, but nothing serious. I honestly don't have time to be getting serious with anyone right now. So I'm kind of just having fun now, nothing heavy."

She bent her knee and began running the sole of her foot against Tim's worn jeans. She found a hole with her toe and stuck it in. He grinned, but didn't look away from the tv set. Slugged more beer.

"Whoa, good run, did you see that?," he said. "Shit, I miss runnin' like that." He then barked out a laugh. "Cut it out, Tyra!" he yelled. "That tickles!"

Tyra continued to work her toe into his leg, making him giggle harder.

"A'right, that's it. You got it, Collette" Tim said as he swiftly flipped Tyra on her side onto the couch and started tickling her. "Right there, as I recall," Tim laughed, digging his fingers under the small ribs in her side.

They were both laughing so hard their sides began to ache. Tim collapsed into Tyra's arms when she knocked his knees sideways. One thing led to another, and Tim's arms wrapped around her, and he buried his face in her neck.

Next thing they knew, they were kissing, just like old times.

They didn't notice when Becky stood abruptly and stormed out.

-/-/-/-

Becky heard a knock. "Becks, it's me. Open up."

"Go away," she yelled. "I'm not here."

"That's ridiculous," Tim answered. "Now open. Or I'm comin' in. I know this door doesn't lock." It was his old room.

He cracked open the door. Becky was sitting on the bed, her knees tucked into her chest, her arms wrapped around them.

Tim sat down next to her and leaned into her.

"That was awkward," Becky said.

"Yeah, sorry 'bout that, it's just…" Tim began.

"… don't tell me 'it's just Tyra'," Becky interrupted. "THAT was what boyfriends do with girlfriends."

"What, that?" Tim said innocently. "Some girls just, I dunno, ask for that. It's like second nature; you don't even think about it."

"Well you'd never do that with me," Becky said.

"Yeah, because you're not that kind of gal," Tim said. "You're… ya know, good."

"What, and Tyra isn't?" Becky demanded.

"Not sure how she is now – she does seem different, less, uh, flirty, but back in the day… let's just say we were counterparts in terms of the other sex. We experimented," Tim clarified.

"But you're right, that was inappropriate. Won't happen again," he said.

"I just don't know where we stand," Becky said. "What are we? Just friends with benefits? How do you see us?"

Tim put his arm around her and gently pulled her in.

"Becks, look. I really like spending time with you. I'm just not good at defining relationships. Never have been, other than Lyla. To be honest, if she agreed, I'd spend all my days with her, and I'll probably always feel that way. But she's moved on to other things. Now, just out of jail and all, I can't commit to a relationship, at least not yet. It's like I'm just finding my way again after kind of hittin' the reset button."

He kissed her on the head.

"Oh, not the forehead kiss. That's the kiss of death," Becky said, pulling away. That's what dads do to their teenage daughters. "Don't be my dad."

"What? What are you talkin' about," Tim asked. He thought he was being sweet and supportive.

"This is what I want," Becky said, pulling his head to hers with both hands, kissing him with anger.

-/-/-/-

Tim emerged from his old room an hour later, still not committed to Becky for real, but feeling pretty damn good. Sure, it was a conundrum, but hell, after a few months in jail, he'd take it.


End file.
